


Holding Onto You

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Topping from the Bottom, Unsafe Sex, Vegas Expansion Draft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7835173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You can’t be picked if you’re married," Nicky says, like it's obvious.</p><p>“I’m not married,” Alex replies.</p><p>“You’re marrying me,” Nicky says, his jaw set.</p><p>“You haven’t proposed."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Onto You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [protect_rosie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/protect_rosie/gifts).



> THANK YOU SO MUCH to my wonderful recipient who gave me the best prompt ever about Nicky and Alex getting married to be protected from the expansion draft (in an AU where only married people are exempt from being drafted).
> 
> Unsafe sex tag is because they don't use condoms.
> 
> Original characters are only there for a scene in the middle #plotdevice
> 
> I do not represent the real people presented as characters in this fic, nor do I make any claims about what they do or do not do in their private lives (but Alex and Nicky are so married)

Alex doesn’t usually see Nicky over the summer.  They both have responsibilities in their home countries, and just Alex’s scheduled obligations take enough time that he doesn’t see friends in the same city as him that often, much less travelling to Sweden and working around Nicky’s schedule, too.

But this year, they make an exception.  Alex cancels a TV interview and a visit to a local rink to fly to Sweden the week before the expansion draft, because the rules were changed at the beginning of last summer, and no one’s protected.  No one single, at least; the only safe players are those that are married.  So that rules out Burky and Holts, and Osh and Carly (who got hitched towards the end of the season, obviously to keep from being torn apart), and Mojo and Alzy both have wives.

But even if everyone else on the team were single, Alex knows he’d be leaving.  No one ever accuses him of being modest.

Nicky knows it, too, when he picks Alex up from the airport with a pinched look on his face.

“There’s my favorite center,” Alex coos, wrapping Nicky up in a hug.  Nicky hugs him back, his face pressed to Alex’s shoulder.  Alex knows his favorite travelling sweatshirt is soft, and Nicky’s fallen asleep with his face buried in it more times than either of them can count.

“I’m your only center,” Nicky mutters.

Alex clicks his tongue.  “Not on Russian team, unless you change citizenship?”

Nicky is quiet, for a moment, and Alex doesn’t really know what to do with that.  Nicky must be really upset about Alex leaving if he’s missing a chance to make fun of the Russian National team.

“I’m parked out in the lot,” Nicky says at last, and Alex follows him out there.

They drive in silence back to Nicky’s apartment.  He doesn’t like driving with music on, finds it too distracting, and Alex has gotten used to being quiet around Nicky.  This feels a little different, but still comforting, that calm presence that Nicky (usually) exudes soothing all of Alex’s frayed nerves.

“The draft’s on Tuesday,” Alex says, when they’re turning off the highway.

“Hmmm,” Nicky replies, and doesn’t look over at Alex.

“C’mon, don’t you want to see how high I’ll go?”

Nicky makes a non-committal noise, and Alex drops it.  For now.  That was Nicky’s please-later-when-I-can-think-through-what-I-want-to-say noise, not his drop-it-drop-it-now-and-don’t-ever-pick-it-up-again noise.  Alex is _very_ good at telling the difference.  After much trial and error.

They reach Nicky’s building in silence, and go up to his apartment in silence.  Alex drops his bag in the quest room and comes out to the living room, and everything’s still silent.

Nicky has the tv, some news show, on mute.  What a weirdo.

Alex sits down next to him, pressing his toes under Nicky’s thigh.  “Any good news?”

Nicky turns to Alex, a considering tilt to his head.  There’s late afternoon sunlight spilling in through the windows behind him, and it catches on his cloud of hair, making it shine gold.  He looks a little like an angel.

“No,” Nicky says.  Alex blinks, jumping back into the moment.

“None at all?”

Nicky narrows his eyes a little, and Alex wonders if they’re talking about the same thing.

“You’re not leaving,” Nicky decides.

Alex laughs, a little choked out thing.  “You gonna stop them, Nicky?  Gonna call the GM in Vegas and say ‘You can’t take Alex’?  Gonna go out there and fight him for me?”

“You can’t be picked if you’re married.”

Again – Alex wonders.

“I’m not married,” Alex replies.  “Not dating anyone, and they would know if I tried to fake it.  They investigate, Nicky.  You saw Carly and Oshie.”

It was brutal.  Interviews with both of them, with the rest of the team, with family and friends and coaches and neighbors, just to determine if they were at least actually dating, and not faking it to stay in the city.  And they had been dating – maybe not to the point of marriage, but when the NHL found out they’d only gotten together at training camp, it had just made them more relentless.

Alex doesn’t think any relationship he whipped up in four days would be very convincing.

“You’re marrying me,” Nicky says, his jaw set.

“You haven’t proposed,” Alex replies.

Without a word, Nicky pulls a ring box out of his pocket and pops it open.  Alex stares at the thin gold band.  It catches the light the same way Nicky’s hair did.

“You can’t be drafted if you’re married,” Nicky tells him.  “If they don’t get you, they’ll probably pick me.  Having you fake-marry anyone else would just mean I get drafted.  It would be too unusual for us both to get married, suddenly married, to two other people in the same week.  But if we got married to each other—”

“Why would they believe it?” Alex asks, still staring at the ring.  “We haven’t been dating.”

“We’ve been dating in secret,” Nicky says, and Alex can hear the way he’s rolling his eyes.  “Russian laws.  Team unity.  Developing our relationship out of the public.  One of those reasons.”

“Would—”

Nicky reaches for Alex then, taking hold of one of his hands.  Nicky’s hands are strong, only a little smaller than Alex’s.  Alex looks up at him.

“They’d believe it,” Nicky tells him, staring straight into his eyes.  “We know each other well.  We spend all our time together.  We say we’ve been dating the whole time, no one would think we’re lying.”

“But the team—”

Nicky squeezes Alex’s hands.  “They’d believe it, Alex.  Trust me.”

It’s not any different than Nicky outlining a risky play, tracing his fingers on the edge of the boards to show Alex where to go.  It’s not any different than circling around the net and keeping his eye on the defense because he knows Nicky’s going to pass it to him and he’s going to score.

It’s not any different than all the stupid things they’ve done together over the years.

“Yes,” Alex says, squeezing Nicky’s hands.  “When’s the ceremony?”

Nicky laughs softly, a grin stretching over his face, the first one Alex’s seen since their season ended.

“We’re getting the license tomorrow,” Nicky says, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it carefully onto Alex’s finger.  “The ceremony’s on Saturday.”

Of course Nicky got everything ready before Alex even said yes.

 

.oOo.

 

They get married in a park in Sweden on a sunny day, with only a few clouds in the sky.  Alex hadn’t brought any nice suits with him, so he goes out and buys one the day after they get their license.  He winds up with a navy blue suit, pale blue tie; Nicky has a nice suit in a pale gray, and he wears that.

Nicky’s mom takes pictures.  She’s smiling the whole time, and cries a little when they say their vows, and tells Alex he should’ve made Nicky an honest man earlier.

Alex’s parents fly in from Russia, smiling and overjoyed, but also confused; there aren’t many things that Alex has kept secret from them.

They’d hashed out their story, of course – Alex had gotten Nicky’s phone number after he was drafted, which is true, and they started off as fast friends once Nicky got to Washington, which is also true.  They got closer as they spent more time together and played on the same line, which is true.  They got even closer when Alex got the C and Nicky an A, which is true.

They started dating Nicky’s third season in the NHL, and kept it quiet because of Alex’s home country, and Nicky’s private nature, and a desire to figure out their own relationship without public pressure.  They got engaged almost a year ago, but waited to get married until their parents could be there.

Those are all the lies.  Alex could see them being true, in a world where Nicky loves him and really wants to marry him.  Alex could _see it_ , Nicky standing across from him with the wind picking at his hair, looking tall and handsome in his light suit, smiling up at Alex as he slides a ring onto his finger.

But Alex is going to get to spend the rest of his career with Nicky, and that’s what’s important.

 

.oOo.

 

The next day – the day of the draft, three days after Nicky and Alex sent in the paperwork to the NHL, paperwork that Nicky had completely filled out and only needed Alex’s signature – someone from the Caps front office and one of the NHL operations managers come out to see them.

They meet them in Nicky’s living room, a plate of cheese and crackers set out, one of the pictures of them from the wedding already in a plain wooden frame on the sideboard.

“I have to say, you haven’t given us much warning,” the NHL guy, Mike, Alex thinks, says.  “All the other couples claiming exemption submitted their paperwork weeks, if not months, ago.  All the others on your team have already submitted the paperwork, and been approved.”

“Nicky want it to be a surprise,” Alex says, reaching for Nicky’s hand and taking hold of it.  Nicky turns his palm into Alex’s and squeezes, like they’ve had longer than three days to get used to holding hands.

“Our schedules are very tight,” Nicky adds.  “This was the only week we both had free.”

Mike doesn’t really look like he’s buying it.  Morgan, the nice woman from the Caps, shoots Alex a look.

“You couldn’t have gotten married during the season?” Mike asks.

Alex glances at Nicky.  Nicky raises an eyebrow.  “Didn’t want to distract the team in such a good year.”

“But if you’ve been together for seven years, as you’re claiming, then why not get married last summer, when the exemption rules came out?”

“We didn’t want to force a ceremony because of your rules,” Nicky says.  Alex huffs a laugh, because that’s exactly what they’re doing – making up this whole thing, getting _legally married_ , just so they won’t be torn apart later that day.

“The team has been prepared for this,” Morgan says, folding her legs.  “Mr. Backstrom made a phone call two weeks ago to make sure they would still be exempt from the draft, given the date set for their wedding.  I assured him that as long as he was able to fax a copy of his marriage license with the paperwork there wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Even the office knew before me?” Alex asks, grinning and nuzzling Nicky’s cheek.  “Sneaky sneaky.”

Nicky’s cheeks tinge pink; he’s still not used to the affectionate side of pretending to be married.  And maybe Alex goes a bit too far with it, but it’s not more than he’s done when they’ve been drunk, even the kissing.

And maybe Alex enjoys it a little too much, getting to have Nicky pressed against him when they’re sober, even getting to pull Nicky into his lap last night after the wedding.  But Nicky hasn’t called him on anything, and Alex loves to push until Nicky tells him to stop.

“We know you’ll need to look into this matter,” Morgan continues, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder.  “But every bit of communication between Mr. Backstrom and the Capitals has been completely by-the-books, and there’s been no reason to believe any part of this marriage is fabricated.”

“The reason we conduct these investigations is _because_ it doesn’t seem fabricated,” Mike tells her, making a few notes in a legal pad on his lap.  “Especially for players that have played on the same line for so many years, living in each others’ pockets, it’s easy to make up the romantic and sexual aspects of the relationship based on the platonic one that already exists.”

Alex frowns and scoots a little closer to Nicky.  Nicky presses his shoulder into Alex’s, briefly, before he responds, “We’ll cooperate with any questions or requests you have, of course.”

“Of course,” Alex echoes.

“I’ll need to interview you, separately,” Mike says, putting his pad to the side.  “Before the draft begins.  Is there a room here we can use for this?”

“I have an office,” Nicky says, squeezing Alex’s hand one more time before he lets go and stands up.  “I can show it to you.”

“Good,” Mike replies, and stands as well.  “I’ll interview you first, then.”  He casts a glance at Alex, graying eyebrows drawing down over his eyes.  “And – I’d like you both to keep this in mind – if you’re found to be fabricating this relationship for the purpose of obtaining exemption from the draft, the results will be…”  He shakes his head, and gestures for Nicky to lead the way.

Alex can’t help but watch Nicky as he leaves.  He feels colder, without Nicky’s warmth pressed to his side.

When Alex looks back at Morgan, she purses her lips.

“Really, Alex?  You’ve only been away from Washington for,” she checks her phone, “Three weeks and you get _married_?  Do you have any idea how this can impact your career?”

“It was Nicky’s idea,” Alex says weakly.  “Surprise for me.”

She pauses at that.  “ _He_ thought of it?”

“Of course,” Alex responds.  “Nicky best at planning.”

“Could you two really not stand being separated?”  She asks plaintively.  “You couldn’t at least let the draft happen and then try to stay together after?”

“He’s my center,” Alex objects.  He’d had to play without Nicky before – when Nicky had his hip surgery, and the couple of times he’s been injured, and he really, really doesn’t like it.  At all.  If Nicky decides to retire earlier than Alex, Alex is just going to have to follow him, because he couldn’t bear an entire _season_ without Nicky on the ice at his side.

Morgan sighs.  “All right.  Make sure you’re convincing, all right?  We don’t want the team getting any bad press.”

“Wait, you know--?” Alex starts, and pauses.  He doesn’t know if Mike could hear him, or who’s side Morgan is really on.

“Mr. Backstrom and I had a very… _thorough_ conversation two weeks ago,” She says, and then smirks.  “Or is it Backstrom-Ovechkin?  Will that fit on a jersey?”

“We haven’t decided,” Alex replies absently.  He likes the thought of that – N. Backstrom-Ovechkin and A. Backstrom-Ovechkin standing on the ice together, heads bent together figuring out a play, striding down the ice on a breakaway, slamming into each other after a goal.

“Make sure you give the equipment guys enough notice,” Morgan tells him, and stands up.  “Bathroom?”

Alex points her down the hall and sags back into the couch, staring at his hands in his lap.  His wedding ring shifts when he rubs his finger against it, and he smiles as the light dances over it in different ways with each twist.

He doesn’t really think it’ll be difficult to convince Mike that he loves Nicky, considering he actually does.

 

.oOo.

 

The draft comes, and it goes.  Nicky and Alex don’t watch it. 

They go out on Nicky’s balcony, instead, and share a bottle of wine that Nicky had stashed in the back of his pantry.

“My parents gave it to me when I signed with the Capitals,” Nicky says as he pops out the cork.

“Could’ve saved it to open when you retire,” Alex says, but he accepts the glass that Nicky hands him.

“Too poetic.”

“I’ll just have to get you a new one.  A bottle of wine for each of our anniversaries.”

Nicky doesn’t reply; he takes a sip of wine instead, and stares out at the quiet street below them.  It’s almost two, now, but they decided to stay up until the first round was over.  Even if they wouldn’t be watching it, if they knew they couldn’t be picked, it was somehow important to be awake while it happened.

“How long do you think we need to be married?” Nicky asks, still staring out at the street.

Alex laughs and puts his feet in Nicky’s lap.  “Only been married two days and already wanna get rid of me?”

Nicky makes a noise and, almost subconsciously, his free hand curls around Alex’s bare ankle.  “We’d have to make sure we don’t make anyone suspicious by splitting too early.”

Alex nudges his toes into Nicky’s stomach.  “Is this really that bad?”

“There’s so much to figure out,” Nicky says, finally looking over at Alex.  His eyes are a little wide, a little scared, his mouth pinched.  “Who’s giving up their house, where we’ll spend summers, if one or both of us will change our names.  No more flings or girlfriends.”

“Nicky, Nicky,” Alex says, putting his feet down and scooting closer, pressing up against Nicky’s side.  “We have time to figure it out, right?  Don’t got to give up house right now.  Don’t need to change everything right away.”

“Three years, I think,” Nicky replies.  He looks down at his glass of wine, swirls it, and takes a sip.  “Then we can divorce.”

“That bad being married to me?” Alex asks, trying to lighten his tone, but he doesn’t think he succeeds.  Nicky shifts like he’s about to say something, and Alex’s phone buzzes.

“Who went first?” Nicky asks instead.

“Stamkos.”

Nicky nods.  “Good choice.”

“Surprised he didn’t fake a marriage to stay in Tampa.”

Nicky laughs, and it’s almost like normal, again, sharing a bottle of wine with Nicky in the summer air.  Maybe a little different, with them sitting so close, but better because of it.

Alex’s phone buzzes again.  “Tavares went second.”

Nicky hums and leans his head on Alex’s shoulder.  “You’re better than both of them.”

“Good thing you took me off the market.”

Nicky doesn’t say anything.  Alex’s phone buzzes.

“Price’s third.”

“He’s married,” Nicky says.

“They got married after the trade,” Alex replies.  “I bet—” His phone buzzes again.  “PK.”

“They wanted to play together.”

“Like you and me.”

Nicky pauses, glass halfway to his mouth.  Alex holds his breath, just a little, waiting for… whatever it is Nicky’s going to do.  Alex doesn’t know if Nicky will get it, what Alex is trying to say, or if he’ll understand and pretend he didn’t to spare Alex’s feelings.  They have to spend at least three years married, after all, and it wouldn’t be good to start off fighting.

And then the glass completes it’s journey to Nicky’s mouth, and he doesn’t say anything at all.

By the time the first 30 picks are in, one player from each team, they’ve finished the bottle of wine and started another.  As soon as the last pick’s in, Alex puts his glass down.

“I’m beat,” he says, and stands up, slipping out from under Nicky, who’d wound up leaning more and more into him as he drank more.  “Time for bed.”

Nicky groans and stands up, running a hand through his hair.  “Past time for bed.”

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow,” Alex tells him, grabbing Nicky by the elbow and towing him inside.  “C’mon, wash face, brush teeth.”

Nicky grumbles but heads into the bathroom.  Alex hears the water going as he digs out his pajamas and shucks his jeans and sweater, putting on the soft flannel pants and t-shirt instead.  Nicky comes back into the bedroom a second after Alex is dressed, heading right for his dresser as Alex slips around him to the bathroom.

They’ve shared rooms before, in hotels, but not beds.  The last few nights had been interesting, figuring out who got which side, how much space to leave between them.

When Alex gets back into the bedroom, Nicky’s spread across the whole of it, legs kicked out and arms spread.

“Didn’t leave any room for me,” Alex murmurs, kneeling on the edge of the bed.

Nicky mutters something and turns his head, so he can peer at Alex.  He raises his hand just a little and pats the bed, but doesn’t move other than that.

Alex slides onto the bed, squeezing into the bit of space Nicky isn’t taking up.  Nicky doesn’t move away, once Alex is pressed against him – he presses back into Alex, curling his hand in Alex’s shirt.

“Nicky?” Alex asks, his arm curling around Nicky’s waist, almost without his agreement.

But Nicky’s asleep, eyelashes fanned over his cheeks and mouth just slightly open.  Alex holds still, and stares at Nicky’s face, until he falls asleep, too.

 

.oOo.

 

Eventually, Alex has to go back home.

The summer passes in a blur without Nicky at his side – even with the frequent visits from NHL executives and specialists, and the interview requests rolling in that Alex does his best to meet.

He could talk about Nicky for hours – is doing that, now – so the interviews, at least, aren’t too awful.

Before he even realizes it, they’re back in DC.  It’s still hot at the end of summer, humidity hanging in the air and making the AC in his house work hard.

His and Nicky’s house.  They’d decided on Alex’s house to share, because he had more space, more guest rooms, a nicer deck, and a pool.  They’d have to share a room, of course, wouldn’t be able to avoid it without raising suspicion, but it’s nice to have the extra space if their parents want to visit, or if they ever wind up hosting a rookie.

Nicky’s moving his things in in this week before training camp, and Alex’s already cleared some space – a few drawers, one of the closets in his bedroom, some kitchen space, some table space in the living room to put up any pictures he’d want.

Alex already has one of their wedding pictures framed and hanging on the wall.  It’s from right after they exchanged vows, when Nicky’s smiling up at Alex and Alex is beaming down at Nicky, and they’re holding hands and when Alex looks close enough, he can see the ring on Nicky’s finger.

It’s one of his favorite pictures of them.  He’d wallpaper the entire room in it if he could, but he thinks Nicky might object to that.

He doesn’t at all regret the candles he lights or the food he picks up, to welcome Nicky to his new house.  He doesn’t even regret the roses in the vase, but when he hears Nicky’s key in the door (the key he’s had since Alex bought the house years ago) he starts to think he might’ve gone overboard.

Nicky pauses just inside the doorway, suitcase rolling behind him, and stares at the living room.  There’s two plates of chicken and sautéed vegetables and roasted potatoes on the coffee table, a bottle of red wine breathing between them.  There’s candles on the coffee table, the fireplace mantle, the side tables, and the rest of the lights are dimmed.  The vase of roses is next to the bottle of wine, and Alex at least changed out of his sweatpants for this.

“What’s all this?” Nicky asks, his face and voice carefully blank.

“I can’t do something nice for my husband?” Alex asks, taking a step towards Nicky.

Nicky turns his gaze onto Alex and raises an eyebrow.  “This seems like more than ‘something nice.’”

“First night in our house,” Alex says, and finally reaches Nicky.  He takes the handle of Nicky’s suitcase and pushes it to the wall to be dealt with later.  “Should be special, right?”

“Alex,” Nicky says, staring up at Alex.  “What are you doing?”

“Want to treat my husband right,” Alex says quietly.

“No, I mean…” Nicky makes a frustrated noise, darting a glance over at the candles and roses and everything else Alex did.  He must catch sight of their wedding picture, because he makes the noise again, sounding almost pained.

“What are you thinking?” Alex asks, because for once he can’t tell.

“What are you doing?” Nicky asks again.

“I want to make you happy.”

“Why?”

Alex takes a step back, and then another, until he’s back by the couch.  “I need a reason?  C’mon, food getting cold.”

“ _Why_ , Alex?”

He grips the back of the couch and stares down at the coffee table.  He shouldn’t have to say it.  He bought roses, lit candles, set out food and wine – has Nicky never seen a romantic movie?  Alex knows that he has, since Alex was the one to force him to sit through a dozen of them during the lockout.

“Because it’s you.”

Nicky takes three quick strides to stand in front of Alex.

“Just say it.”

Alex looks at him, at the soft look on Nicky’s face.  He can see it now – he can –

“I love you,” Alex breathes.  “Nicky, I—”

Nicky cups Alex’s face in his hands, and Alex falls silent.

“Oh, Alex,” Nicky murmurs, and for a second Alex almost panics, before he continues, “Of course I love you.”

Alex closes his eyes, pressing into Nicky’s hands.  How did he not know?  How could he not tell?  It’s so obvious, now, in the affection coating every one of Nicky’s words, the careful touch of his hands on Alex’s skin.  And, a moment later, the gentle brushing of their lips.

“I don’t want dinner to get cold,” Nicky says a moment later, pulling back a hair’s breadth.  “After you put so much thought into it.”

“I’ll heat it up,” Alex mutters and kisses him again, hand fitting perfectly at the back of Nicky’s head, fingers shifting through his golden hair.

Nicky allows it for a minute, face tilted to Alex’s, hands still cupping Alex’s cheeks.  It’s that same hold he uses to gently push Alex away once he decides it’s time to eat.

They sit side by side on the couch, plates in their laps.  Alex feeds Nicky a couple bites of his food, and he’s almost surprised when Nicky allows it.

“I should’ve known you’d be like this,” Nicky grumbles, licking a bit of sauce off his lip.

“Like what?” Alex asks innocently, picking up a piece of squash next and holding it to Nicky’s mouth.

Nicky waves his hand as he chews, gesturing at everything, and once he swallows, says, “Sappy.”

“Romantic,” Alex corrects.

Nicky rolls his eyes, but he’s blushing a little.  He looks beautiful in the candlelight, more angelic than normal, and Alex says so.

“Sappy,” Nicky mutters, and shoves a bite of chicken into Alex’s mouth so he can’t respond.

Alex chews thoughtfully, studying Nicky again.  Now that he knows how Nicky feels, and Nicky knows how he feels, it’s like he can suddenly read Nicky again, with that vital piece of information slotted into place.  The clouds have lifted for the first time since their wedding.

Just to be sure, and maybe a little bit to tease, he says, “If you want, I’ll stop.”

Nicky makes a frustrated noise, and the look he shoots at Alex means he knows exactly what Alex is pulling.  Alex tries to look as innocent as possible, though it wouldn’t make a difference if he’d laughed, because Nicky can see right through him anyway.  Nicky’s staring at the roses, and the candles, and his entire face is soft, like Alex rarely sees it.  It’s the look he has the first time he sees the Verizon Center ice at the beginning of the season, and the look he always gave Alex when they’d see each other for the first time at the beginning of the season.

“It’s all right for a special occasion,” Nicky finally concedes, looking back at Alex, that same fondness and affection and love in his eyes.

Carefully, Alex puts his plate on the coffee table, and then takes Nicky’s and puts it there, too.  Then he presses Nicky back into the couch and kisses him hard.  Nicky kisses him back right away, hands flying to Alex’s shoulders and fisting in his shirt.

There’s this – fire, all of a sudden, this burning starting in his chest, spreading through his whole body, his lips, his hands, everywhere Nicky’s touching him.  It roars under his skin, but it’s a part of him, it’s always been there, smoldering, waiting for that extra bit of fuel – _oh, Alex, of course I love you_ – that would let it ignite.

“Alex,” Nicky gasps, tearing his mouth away from Alex’s.

“Nicky,” Alex murmurs, dropping his lips to Nicky’s neck.  He moans, tilting his head back, fingertips digging into Alex’s shoulders.  Alex’s heard that moan before, when he’s helped work out some of the pain from Nicky’s hips, when he’s rubbed a cramp out of his back.  This is different.  This is…

Alex rears back and tugs his t-shirt over his head, tossing it over the back of the couch, luckily missing all of the candles scattered around.  Nicky’s hands are on him right away, sliding down his chest, thumbing over his nipple on the way past.  Alex lets out a breath, watching as Nicky’s lips twitch into a smile, a red, spit-slick smile that Alex wants to kiss right now.

Nicky beats him to it, surging up and hooking an arm around Alex’s neck, swallowing Alex’s gasp and, with a twist of his hips, rolling them off the couch and onto the carpet.  Nicky winds up on top, hands fisted in Alex’s hair and knees either side of Alex’s hips.

“Bed,” Alex pants, when he can bear to tear his mouth away from Nicky’s.

Nicky mutters something, pulling Alex’s head back and sucking a mark into his neck.  Alex gasps, his hands sliding up under the back of Nicky’s shirt.

Alex would be lying if he said he’d never imagined what it would be like, to be with Nicky.  He’d gone back and forth, between Nicky lying back, letting Alex trail his lips over every inch of his skin, and Nicky like this, taking charge and pushing Alex where he wanted him.

Nicky pulls back eventually, staring into Alex’s eyes, his thumb smoothing over Alex’s brow.  “You have—?”

Alex nods quickly, shoving his hand under the couch cushion and pulling out a small bottle of lube.

“Really?” Nicky asks, unimpressed.

“Prepared,” Alex murmurs, bucking up against Nicky.  Nicky’s eyes narrow, and he pushes Alex back into the carpet by his shoulders.  Alex wasn’t sure he’d like it as much as he is, when he pictured Nicky taking charge, the same way Nicky takes charge on the ice and in the locker room, with that quiet confidence and complete knowledge that he was going to be obeyed, with Alex’s full trust in him.  But it makes Alex moan, now, when Nicky uses his weight to keep Alex pinned.

A moment later that weight’s gone, Nicky up on his knees as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and undoes the button of his jeans.  Alex can only stare, tracing the lines of Nicky’s body, the ridges of bone and muscle that he’s seen before, when he’s let himself look in the room.  It’s different, now, because Nicky is _his_.  He doesn’t have to sneak glances, or worry someone will see him watching, he can _touch_ now—

Nicky’s pants and underwear come off quickly, without fanfare.  If nothing else, seeing Nicky hard and  naked and straddling Alex’s lap is just so _real_ , it’s really happening, and Alex can barely keep his thoughts straight when he can see all of Nicky’s flushed skin on display.  Nicky’s hand curls around Alex’s, plucking the bottle of lube from his grip and squeezing some out onto Alex’s fingers.  Alex’s breath catches when Nicky guides his hand around him, to press against Nicky’s entrance.

“Nicky,” Alex manages to say.

Nicky leans down and kisses him softly, barely a brush of lips, before pulling back an inch and smiling at him.

“Alex,” Nicky whispers, and that’s really all they’ve ever needed to say to each other.  They don’t need anything more.

Alex presses one of his fingers in, and Nicky’s eyes flutter shut.  He pushes back against Alex’s finger, his bare cock brushing against Alex’s stomach as he does.

It’s – it’s glorious, having Nicky in his lap, working a second finger into Nicky’s tight heat.  He’d thought – in his weaker moments – that Nicky would be tighter, that he’d have to work carefully to open Nicky up on one finger, and then two, and maybe even three.  But once he nudges the tip of his finger in, it’s easy to thrust it in the rest of the way, spread his fingers and listen to Nicky’s moans.  He tries to imagine it, Nicky in bed or in the shower in the time they’ve been separated, fucking himself on his fingers and picturing Alex above him.

“Three?” Alex asks, his third finger rubbing against Nicky’s entrance, sliding against his other fingers.

“Yeah,” Nicky pants, curling over Alex and pressing his forehead to Alex’s.  He thrusts that third finger in, gently, pulling back and pushing in a couple times, until Nicky’s moaning again, his eyes half-open, staring right into Alex’s.

“Alex,” Nicky breathes, and Alex pulls his fingers out.  Nicky kisses Alex again, and then his cheek, his forehead, over the line of his jaw, and Alex loves it, loves Nicky scattering kisses on him, but he’s trying to undo his jeans with one hand and he’s way too distracted to handle that.

“Nicky,” Alex whines, and Nicky huffs.  But he does kneel up and help Alex tug his jeans and underwear down his thighs.  A quick pump of Alex’s lube-slick hand over his cock is all he can manage before Nicky rests one hand on Alex’s chest and wraps his other around Alex’s cock, holding it steady so he can sink back onto it.

Alex groans, head falling back against the carpet, hands flying to Nicky’s hips.  He shouldn’t be surprised that just Nicky sitting on his cock is enough to wreck him, not when Nicky’s always had that sort of power over him.  But Nicky looks just as lost as Alex feels, his mouth open on a gasp and brows knit together.

“Nicky,” Alex moans, just as Nicky grunts out, “Alex,” and rises up before sitting back down on Alex’s cock.

They sink into a rhythm effortlessly, Alex’s hands roaming Nicky’s hips and thighs and rocking up into him, Nicky’s fingers digging into Alex’s chest, his back bowing every time Alex thrusts up a little harder.  Alex tries to grip Nicky’s hips, pull him down onto his cock, until Nicky thumbs over Alex’s nipple and then pinches it.

And Alex is fine letting Nicky take the lead, _more_ than fine.  Nicky sets the play, and Alex goes where Nicky wants him.

“Kiss me,” Nicky demands, and Alex surges up, pressing his lips to Nicky’s, licking into his mouth.  He lets go of Nicky’s hip and runs his hand through Nicky’s hair instead, _finally_.

“Nicky,” Alex pants against his mouth, before kissing him again, nipping at Nicky’s lip and rubbing his tongue against Nicky’s.  Nicky picks up his pace, knees spread wide so he can get closer to Alex.

“Touch me,” Nicky pulls back to say, before Alex kisses him again, and slips his hand around Nicky’s cock.  He pumps him quickly, trying his best to match the pace Nicky set, and it’s a little strange, realizing this is the first time touching Nicky, when it feels like they’ve been together for years.

They have, in a way, been together for years.  All those years of playing together, of loving Nicky and thinking Nicky didn’t love him back, of late night drinks and early morning breakfasts and everything in between is what led them here.

“Alex,” Nicky moans, curling into Alex and bucking against him, coming onto Alex’s stomach.  He clenches around Alex’s cock, shakes in Alex’s arms, and Alex comes, too, his face buried in Nicky’s neck.

They lie there for a minute, the candles glowing around them, Nicky’s breath puffing against Alex’s cheek and Alex running his hand up and down Nicky’s back.

“Bed?” Alex asks finally, nuzzling Nicky’s neck.

“Put out the candles first,” Nicky murmurs.

Alex kisses him again and then slides out from under him, wandering around the living room with a hand holding his jeans up, blowing out the candles one by one.  When the last one’s out, he turns back to Nicky, who’s leaning back against the side of the couch, the light from the hallway illuminating him just enough that Alex can see the curve of his smile and the warmth in his eyes.

Alex smiles back and helps Nicky up, so they can shuffle up to the bedroom with Alex’s arm around Nicky’s waist and Nicky’s around Alex’s shoulders.  They leave their clothes and their plates and the dozens of blown-out candles to deal with in the morning.

 

.oOo.

 

A couple days later, when everyone is back in the district for the start of training camp, Wilso insists that Alex and Nicky have everyone over to celebrate their marriage.

His backyard’s full of his teammates, now, Carly and Willy sharing duties on the grill, everyone else lounging around on chairs drinking or eating or playing with the kids or chatting with their wives.

He remembers how close he was to losing this.  How resigned he was.  He was ready to just let his team, his home, his _Nicky_ , go without a fight.  But – he’s still here, he gets to stand here and see his team – a little different now, a little changed, but just as good as always – laughing together and enjoying their time together, and he’s going to get to see them enjoy the hell out of the season, gonna get to enjoy it with them.

Without a word, Nicky appears at Alex’s side, pressing an open beer into his hand.  Alex presses a kiss to his cheek, his arm curling around Nicky’s waist.  Nicky leans against him, fitting into his side seamlessly, like he’s meant to be there.

Like the minute he was drafted to Washington, the _second_ Alex called his name from that stage, they were meant to end up here.  Not exactly here, with the draft and the wedding, but _here_ , standing in the doorway of their home looking out over their backyard.

“I’m glad you could stay,” Nicky murmurs, leaning his head against Alex’s shoulder.

“All because of you,” Alex replies, dropping a kiss on Nicky’s forehead.  “I gave up, Nicky.”

Nicky snorts.  “Alex Ovechkin doesn’t give up.”

“He does when he doesn’t have Nicklas Backstrom.”

Nicky looks at him, finally, a line of tension in his forehead.  “You always have me.”

“Of course,” Alex says quietly.  “Of course, Nicky.  And you always have me.”

Nicky considers Alex for a moment, then pecks him on the lips.  “Of course.  I made sure of it.”

He ducks out of Alex’s arm, after that, taking his own drink out to grab a burger from the pile Willy and Carly started assembling next to the grill.  When Alex doesn’t trail right behind him, Nicky shoots a look back at him, raised eyebrow and all.  Every second of every day, Alex thinks he can’t love Nicky more than he does at that exact moment in time, but he always knows he’s going to be proven wrong the next time Nicky looks at him.  Alex grins and hurries to catch up, sliding his hand into Nicky’s, and pulls him over to the rest of their team.

**Author's Note:**

> (tumblr link coming with reveals!)


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